A Bit of Filth
by Shiny Pichu-chan
Summary: Dimentio is bored. And Mr. L is fun to mess with. Dimentio/Mr. L


It suddenly occured to Dimentio that there was one draw-back to having other people carry out your evil, world-taking-over plans for you.

The waiting.

Not that he was a particularly impatient person, but anyone would feel bored in such a blank, endless castle with nothing to do but wait and lounge about, or sneak away to do nefarious errands to assist with nefarious plans of betrayal and the end of all worlds.

And since the jester had already done the latter for today, he was condemned to wandering Castle Bleck for someone to bother or make their day any less pleasant.

Dimentio was beginning to think everyone was trying to avoid him, as usual…when he came across a large, open room he didn't remember existed until then.

Peeking into the large, wide-open double doors, inside the room was a familiar face—or rather…a familiar lower torso, as the rest of the body was plunged into what looked like the wrist of a giant mechanical hand. Although it was difficult to distinguish it as that, when the hand (as well as the rest of the robot) was heavily damaged with various dents and scorch marks and torn metal.

Then, with the kind of silent slyness that can only be achieved when your feet never touch the ground, Dimentio drifted nonchalantly into the black-colored room, hands behind his back as he hovered curiously around the mangled machinery.

It was some time before Mr. L realized the magician was even in the room with him. And in that time Dimentio had been able to glide idly around Brobot exactly seven times, organize the toolbox on the floor, and fix the broken glass in Brobot's control room with his magic, before he got bored again and settled with staring down harmlessly at Mr. L until he would become conscious of his presence.

Finally, the black-clad man saw a sliver of violet from the corner of his eye, and pulled his upper body partly out of the mechanical hand enough to see Dimentio suddenly floating there, staring down at him with his usual sickeningly pleasant grin.

With a start, the masked man sat up, having been startled by the abrupt presence, as well as getting ready to flare up to tell the demented jester to get out when, in the process…he smacked his forehead on the top part of the 'wrist', causing him to drop the wrench he had been holding in one hand as his palms flew up to the injury now red from the impact.

"Rrg—! _What do you_ _want_ Dimentio?" Mr. L seethed as he massaged his throbbing forehead with eyes shut tight.

"Ah—a thousand apologizes, Mr. L," he answered with his hands up in defeat, whilst trying not to laugh (too much). "I didn't intend to startle you. I was merely searching for a solution to my current boredom."

As the pain dulled down to a tolerable level, Mr. L removed his hands and glared up at Dimentio, "Is that right? And what else is new?" he narrowed his eyes at the wrench as he picked it back up. "I'm not your nanny, so go infuriate someone else right now."

Mr. L was about to go back to his work, when halfway back into the wiring he heard Dimentio laughing quite audibly. Quickly he immerged from the machinery (careful not to hit his head again) and scowled up at the jester who had his hands to his mouth trying to stifle his snickering.

"What?" Mr. L snapped, feelings his face flush with embarrassment even as he glared daggers at Dimentio.

Somehow through the chuckles, the magician was able to compose himself long enough to point to the other's face and reply, "Y-your—ahaha—face there. Like—haha—a lost white rabbit trapped in a coal mine…! Ahahaha~!"

Mr. L blinked once, "…eh?"

He brought a hand to his face again, and rubbed at his cheek. When he withdrew it and looked down, he saw smudges of grime imbedded within the grey in his glove. And that's when realization hit him that both of his gloved hands had been covered in oil and such before…which he had smothered all over his face upon hitting his forehead.

While he wasn't sure exactly how blackened his face had become, Mr. L was glad for the possibility that it might be covering up the humiliating red invading his features.

But seeing as Dimentio would not stop _laughing at him_, the blush of embarrassment quickly became one of anger as he snapped, "How about instead of giggling like a schoolgirl you can be useful for once and hand me that rag over there!"

The laugher finally died down, and Dimentio's gaze followed to where Mr. L was furiously pointing to.

But upon setting his mismatched eyes onto the worn out and tattered piece of fabric on the ground, already smothered with soot and perspiration…Dimentio frowned.

With a look of distaste that resembled the pouting of a small child, the jester turned back towards Mr. L, "…Sorry, but I don't allow myself to touch such filthy things."

The black-clad man growled slightly in frustration, restraining himself from throwing a punch to that clout-worthy face, before standing up and walking over towards the rag himself.

"You're such a pansy…" he muttered crossly as he walked by Dimentio.

Without a word or definite expression, Dimentio gazed after the other, watching him scoop up the shabby cloth from the floor and wipe off his face of the dark grime. Mr. L then shoved the rag halfway into his pocket, and walked over towards his tool box to grab something, apparently deciding to ignore the jester until he left him alone.

But as the masked man got up and walked back over to the metal hand, Dimentio caught sight of something…and grinned mischievously.

Mr. L started to tighten the bolts and screws on the joints of the mechanical fingers, allowing Dimentio to hover on the other side of the giant hand and watch the other with the same pleasant smile as before that seemed to carry no pleasant intentions.

Finally, after a while of the stretching silence, and feeling those mismatched eyes never leaving him, Mr. L decided something as childish as not speaking to the other would not make someone like Dimentio go away.

He looked up and narrowed his eyes again at the magician, "What is it now?" he asked heatedly. But before Dimentio could answer, Mr. L put a hand to his face as an uncertain blush crept up, "W-what? Is my face still dirty?"

Taking Dimentio's sudden chuckle as a yes, the black-clad man hastily turned around and reached down for the rag he dropped a few minutes ago. But as he straightened back up, Mr. L unexpectedly found the jester floating in front of him.

With a twitch, Mr. L bit back a startled yelp, and took a few steps backward, "W-what already?"

Dimentio chuckled softly again, and then swiftly closed the distance between them, "Nothing really," he replied simply…before suddenly bringing his hands up to the other's face, while guiding it closer to his own.

Mr. L's face flared up with heat, and widened eyes stared into mismatched ones. For some reason his body would not move, and he found his voice gone and felt his heart beat loudly in his chest and—

"You just missed a spot."

Mr. L then felt Dimentio rub off something from his cheek, and then the jester removed his hands from the other's face, and withdrew himself back to a comfortable distance from the masked man.

Mr. L stared at Dimentio in a silent stupor, his blush dying down to a faint red tint. His mouth gaped half-open and then closed as he tried to find his voice that had been caught in a sudden lump in his throat.

"O-oh, r…right…" Mr. L finally managed to mumble, suddenly feeling and looking tired.

"But of course," Dimentio replied, "…What did you think I was going to do?" he added with a smile and tone so sweet and innocent it should be criminal.

Just thinking about it made Mr. L flush madly all over again, which he knew was what Dimentio had been aiming for, which in turn just made him more infuriated then mortified.

"Just leave me alone already Dimentio!" Mr. L fumed, and he found the will to move again as he flung the dirty rag angrily towards the jester.

With a small yelp, Dimentio glided away from the path of the filthy cloth, and started to make his way to the door.

"How mean, Mr. L~" he whined broodingly, lingering at the doorway as if waiting for the other to feel sorry for him. But when all he received was a deadly look that said 'get-out-before-I-finish-rewiring-Brobot's-missile-launchers', his face brightened as if nothing had happened, and he bowed elegantly, "Goodbye then, Mr. L. I thank you for satisfying my boredom, if only for a little while."

Dimentio then smiled one last time, and disappeared back into the halls of Castle Bleck while quietly humming an upbeat tune.

Mr. L was then left standing motionless to the spot in the large room for a few moments, staring off at where the jester had left with a weary expression of distaste. His face had returned to their natural hues, and was now wiped clean of any traces of grime.

Finally, the masked man let out a long-held in sigh, and unconsciously put a hand to the side of his face again, where another's hand had been just minutes before. A light blush returned to his face, but Mr. L did not know it, and he couldn't help but think that…

…his hands had been surprisingly warm.


End file.
